


Broken Trust

by Agib



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Childhood Trauma, Idiots in Love, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agib/pseuds/Agib
Summary: Derek Morgan is nineteen and only now beginning to understand that he is different.Spencer Reid is eighteen and has always known he was different.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Ethan/Spencer Reid
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945771
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Broken Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Somebody Else by The 1975.
> 
> \----
> 
> <3 for my beta and freind, Dani, her Ao3 is: [Starsandsupernovae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsupernovae)  
> And her gorgeous tumblr: [@reid-and-writing](https://reid-and-writing.tumblr.com/)

Derek Morgan is nineteen and only now beginning to understand that he is different.

Spencer Reid is eighteen and has always known he was different. He is aware of his sexuality and very open about it.

Derek is lost and confused, he harbours feelings of guilt and internalised homophobia from his past. He doesn’t know why his brain thinks the way it does, or why _something else_ of his seems to have a mind of its own.

They meet at a party and things turn to hell from there. Over the noise of the music Derek learns Spencer has been at college for six years already and has two PhDs to show for it. He finds out Spencer is in Maine on summer break with a ‘friend’ from college. 

He doesn’t know what the air quotes mean, and he’s too buzzed to bother figuring it out. He, in return, tells the boy that he’s in Maine every second summer with his family.

Spencer is a sloppy drunk, and by the time he’s admitted his sober driver is sloshed as well, he’s sitting halfway in Derek’s lap on the homeowner’s cushy loveseat.

“No, I don’t - hic - don’t think I know how to get home without Ethan driving.”

Spencer is eighteen but he has the softest eyes Derek has ever seen on another boy. He hiccups when he’s drinking and presses closer against his chest like he needs the warmth despite the heat in the room.

“Ethan just left t’ snort rails in the bathr’m,” Derek says seriously. “There’s no way you’re letting him drive you home.”

He lets Spencer hum and lean further into the couch.

“Kay,” he mumbles. “Can I stay w’th you?” He asks shyly.

“I’m crashing at a motel ‘cus my mom would kill me if I showed up, so you’re welcome to stay.” He knew he should have the same nervous energy as always, there was only a single bed in the cheap as dirt room he’d booked, they would have to share or take the floor. But he finds himself excited by the prospect.

“Thank you,” Spencer says sincerely. There’s a flush high on his cheeks and by the time they’re both waving goodnight, his cheeks are bitten pink and raw from his teeth dragging over atop them.

\----

Derek would say he’s about as straight as a ruler. Spencer’s about as much as a roundabout, considering his past relations and the way he’s straddling Derek’s thighs and letting him press their lips together for minutes on end.

The motel bed keeps them pressed against each other all night, Spencer’s lips against the back of Derek’s neck and their legs entangled together.

The next morning Derek pushes him away when he rolls over to press their lips together once more.

“I’m not - I don’t do _this_ with guys, man,” Derek explains. Spencer cocks his head in confusion and looks at him with wide, olive-brown eyes.

“You don’t like me?” He asks.

“I don’t like anybody who’s a guy. Don’t take it personally.”

“But we…” Spencer trails off, looking to the bed inquisitively, where they had drunkenly made out for an hour before falling asleep pressed together bodily, all the way from legs to chest. “Okay.”

Derek nods, packing his wallet and keys away into his pocket. He half expected more of an argument, for Spencer to stick up for himself a little.

He wanted someone to tell him he was wrong about what he was saying. But he _is_ straight, so he doesn’t know why he would ever think that.

\----

He texts Spencer half a week later and asks if he wants to come to a game with him. He isn’t familiar with Maine’s football team, but then again, neither is Derek.

They don’t get invested in the game, though Spencer finds the tiling on the bathroom’s ceiling very interesting when he’s down on his knees for Derek at half time.

He also thinks the fluffy carpeting of Derek’s bedroom is a nice texture the following week when he does the same thing.

Derek always finishes, but he doesn’t offer to help Spencer when he’s done, though he does watch. Eyes glazed over and pupils blown wide while he palms himself for a second time.

There’s a spot on Spencer’s neck, just below his ear and above his pulse point that Derek compulsively nips and mouths at. Spencer thinks perhaps he’ll come to his senses and realise Spencer is a _guy_ , and Derek _is_ doing things with him, enjoying time they spend together in a more… _intimate_ sense.

They bike to the shore one morning. It’s clouded over and covered in fog. The rocks cut into the balmy heels of their feet and the saltwater leaves Spencer’s hair curled tighter to his head, messier.

Derek pins him against a tree trunk and goes for the spot on his neck. He leaves bruises and scratch marks across his back, tight fingerprint marks across his arms when they ravish each other like they won’t be here the next day.

\----

Derek Morgan cannot comprehend why he doesn’t take a liking to any of the girls he’s surrounded by. This doesn’t stop him from sleeping with them, though Spencer is always at the back of his mind when he does, flushed, breathing softly, curled against his chest in that motel room like a safe haven. He does sleep with women, but he doesn’t with Spencer, the boy is something different, something special.

And Derek is not gay. He does not sleep with men. He sleeps with women and he enjoys it.

They spend days together like it’s a summer fling, and they’re both happy. Spencer shows Derek his favourite bookstores he’s found this month, Derek takes him to the best private springs and ponds he’d found through the years of summers he spent exploring Maine. 

But to Spencer, Derek is clearly unable to accept his sexuality, he continues to sleep with women despite the lack of emotional attachment he has to them. Spencer attempts to be his turning point, someone who could breach the surface of years of questioning and worrying about being different. 

He believes they could fall genuinely in love. Derek is soft and emotionally supporting, Spencer is logical and oblivious to so much, they worked well together. Spencer talks to him about his studies, his friend who made it big in the world of Jazz, his mother, and her illness. Derek talks about his family, his father, his scholarship being ruined by his knee injury.

Nothing explains why he hated this side of himself. His family is loving and supportive, his future is bright at the Chicago PD, he is happy.

\----

“I don’t understand,” Derek says one afternoon after he’s pushed Spencer away from his lips and towards the floor for something other than kisses. “Why I’m like this,” he finishes saying.

“You’re confused,” Spencer whispers, crawling back up his own bed to sit by the headboard where Derek’s head is in his hands. “You don’t need to be,” he promises gently. “Just do what you want. No labels.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he admits. “I just - I don’t know.”

“You know, a lot of internalised homophobia -”

“I’m not homophobic,” Derek says sharply. Spencer smiles softly and nods, mouthing a quiet _I know._

“A lot of internalised homophobia stems from early childhood trauma,” Spencer finishes, his voice careful and hesitant.

Derek stares at him for a long moment, studying him with careful eyes. Spencer squirms beneath the weight of his gaze, feeling as though he’s crossed a line he should have steered away from.

He has a degree in psychology and had worked out the likelihood of Derek’s past influencing his behaviour now a few weeks ago. 

Derek is the type to lash out, psychically. His ministrations became aggressive when Spencer made any efforts of his own. His need for _control,_ but not for _power_ was indicative of a time in which control was taken from him. His violent hatred for this side of himself - this side that was clearly attracted to Spencer, and the parts of him that were definingly male - suggested a sort of Pavlovian response. He had learned at some point that male-on-male relations symbolised something _wrong_.

“That’s not your place to say,” Derek responds. His voice is quiet too, low enough that Spencer knows he’s struck something he should have left alone.

“Sorry, I was just -”

“I need to go,” Derek says finally. “You can’t just - you can’t profile people like that, Spencer. It’s wrong.” He pushes himself upright on the bed, moving away from where Spencer is knelt, eyes wide and wet as he comprehends how deep and old of a scab he’s picked at.

“Der… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry - I’m sorry, please don’t go like this.”

He holds up one hand, waving Spencer down where he’s shuffling hurriedly to follow him from the room.

“Just - I need some time, okay?”

Spencer should’ve stopped there, left the wound as it was. But he didn’t.

“Are you going to sleep with other girls?” He asks. He can’t help it, he wants to know if this is going to lead back into the endless circle of fighting, breaking off their little arrangements and circling right back together again.

Derek narrows his eyes, curls his lip.

“So, what if I do? We aren’t dating. I can do what I want.”

“It goes both ways,” Spencer responds simply.

“I don’t care.”

Derek slams the door behind him.

\----

Again, fulfilling the empty space Spencer leaves behind with girls doesn’t make much of a difference when he struggles to get off at all. So, when he’s standing in the shower at the holiday home his mother rents biennially thinking about the way Spencer’s waist feels beneath his hands, or the way he sounds when his breath hitches or the redness that flushes across his cheeks and travels down past the line of his shirts that Derek will never take off, he feels disgusting when he _can_ get off.

This is wrong. This is horrible. He should never see another man in this light, as frail and feminine his external features may be at first glance, because his sharp jawline, gangly arms, and everything beneath his waist and above his thighs says differently.

He thinks perhaps Spencer might be the exception to his rule. His women only, non-negotiable rule. 

Spencer with his sandy, brown hair and olive-green eyes. 

Derek thinks he’s made a mistake by pushing him away, by telling him he shouldn’t have tried to help, or by telling him he didn’t care if he slept around - because he _knows_ who Spencer will turn to.

——

_I don’t want your body, but I hate to think of you with somebody else._

_Our love has gone cold. You're intertwining your soul with somebody else._

_No, I don't want your body, but I'm picturing your body with somebody else._

_I just don't believe that you have got it in you ‘cause we are just gonna keep 'doing it.’ And every time I start to believe in anything you're saying, I'm reminded that I should be getting over it._

_I don't want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else._

_No, I don't want your body, but I'm picturing your body with somebody else._

**Author's Note:**

> Will be continued! More drama to come!
> 
> \----
> 
> Tumblr is [@ag-ib](https://ag-ib.tumblr.com/)
> 
> my heart goes <3<3<3 when anyone sends asks
> 
> Feel free to ask any questions about my writing <3


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